Free Shooting for the Stars by R. G. Belsky Page B

mean I thought about what a great ratings bonanza it would be if she had faked her own death. Then Abbie would show up a week or a month later—and say it was all a case of mistaken identity. Claim she had amnesia or was working undercover on a big story or was out of the country—and the girl in the hotel room was really somebody that just looked like her. I actually convinced myself it might be true for a few minutes.
    But, of course, it wasn’t.
    Abbie was dead. There was no doubt about that. She’d been identified by the people she worked with, the medical examiner’s office had matched her fingerprints and dental records, and I’d even seen the autopsy photos. They showed Abbie’s body, lying on a metal slab in the New York City morgue, with her eyes staring blankly out at me.
    I wondered what she thought about during those last few seconds before she was murdered. Was she scared? Was she surprised? Did her life flash before her eyes? Did she think about her television career or working at a Dairy Queen in Wisconsin or maybe even eating pizza with me at my apartment that one night?
    I didn’t know the answers to any of these questions, and I never would. What I did know about Abbie was this: she’d dug up long-buried secrets about a thirty-year-old celebrity murder case. She’d dumped a boyfriend who was the son of a top underworld boss. And she’d revealed things about her ex-husband on national television that cost him his job, his family, and his reputation.
    Abbie Kincaid had done a lot of things to get a lot of people mad at her. Mad enough that she carried a gun for protection. And one of those had gotten her killed.

Chapter 12
    I WANT to do the story,” I said to Stacy Albright.
    â€œOf course you do. The search for Abbie Kincaid’s killer.”
    I shook my head no.
    â€œThe police are all over that. So is every other reporter in town. I’m not sure how much I could do that everybody else isn’t already doing. There are plenty of reporters at this paper who can cover the day-to-day investigation story on the Abbie Kincaid murder. It doesn’t have to be me.”
    â€œThen what story are you talking about?”
    â€œLaura Marlowe,” I said.
    She didn’t understand at first what I meant.
    â€œThere was a lot of stuff going on in Laura Marlowe’s life before she died,” I said. “I’m not sure if any of it had anything to do with Abbie’s murder, but Abbie seemed obsessed with the story. She also told me there was stuff she’d found out she hadn’t told anybody yet. Maybe this had something to do with her death, maybe it didn’t. But I want to find out the truth about Laura Marlowe.”
    Stacy still wasn’t convinced. But I had come prepared to make my argument with the kind of ammunition I knew would work on her.
    â€œSince the day Abbie Kincaid first broke the news about the real Laura Marlowe killer never being caught, ‘Laura Marlowe’has become the highest trending item on social media. Along with ‘ Lucky Lady ,’ ‘ The Langley Caper ,’ and ‘ Once Upon a Time Forever ’—her three movie titles. My article about The Prime Time Files disclosures—plus the speculation about what might come next—produced enough traffic to nearly double our web audience in the days right after Abbie’s broadcast. Laura Marlowe became a hot item again. And she still is. Maybe more than ever if I can somehow solve the thirty-year-old unsolved murder of one of Hollywood’s most legendary and tragic young stars.”
    â€œAnd if it turns out to be related to the Abbie Kincaid murder . . .”
    â€œThen it’s an even better story.”
    She nodded. I had her now. I figured the traffic numbers would do it.
    â€œI like it, Gil. I like it a lot. I just assumed you’d want to be the lead reporter on the Abbie story since you had a